


Once an Addict

by NarryMusings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst and Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Narry - Freeform, Storan, Very minor violence, narry storan - Freeform, slow-ish build, talk of drugs and alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryMusings/pseuds/NarryMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall's an alcoholic. Harry's into drugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once an Addict

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii. 
> 
> This is something I wrote a little while ago. I don't own any of these characters, no matter how badly I wish I could have a couple of them, but the bad/illegal things they do are all my doing.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: narrymusings

Harry's never liked these meetings, nor has he ever understood them.

Why should he care what makes other people tick? Why should he care why or how somebody else started drinking or snorting or needling it up? Isn't he supposed to be focusing on himself and his own problems – not somebody else's?

These meetings, his therapist tells him, are the final – and sometimes everlasting – steps in his "recovery". As if a 90 day stint in rehab and therapy once a week isn't enough, Dr. Simon Cowell feels the need to, indirectly, force him to attend these weekly meetings. 

This is his fourth meeting and he has yet to say a word. And the only thing he's learned, aside from the fact that these meetings are a huge waste of his time, is that every single person in this room are equally fucked up. 

Josh is a heroin addict whose father beat him. 

Ashton's mother was a cocaine addict throughout most of her pregnancy with him, which means he's been a cocaine addict since birth, really. 

Taylor's an alcoholic whose mother abandoned her and her father when she was a little girl. 

And Cal has a gambling problem that cost him his wife and kids. 

Liam, the head of this meeting calls everyone in and the seven people in the room, including himself, take a seat in one of the ten chairs in the middle the room. Harry's sat between Ashton and Taylor, his arms crossed over his chest and his legs folded at the ankles. 

He hates these things. Truly, deeply hates them. 

The door to the community centre opens and Harry glances over his shoulder to see a boy walk in. He's wearing a black jacket over a grey sweater, both of which are hanging open to reveal a white shirt, jeans, a pair of white supras and a grey beanie. He looks up, looking sheepish and pink as everyone looks at him. 

"Ahh, our new comer!" Liam exclaims, gesturing him to come further into the room to sit down. "Niall, right?"

"Uh, yeah," the boy named Niall says with a distinctly Irish accept. "Hi."

"Hey, yeah, have a seat. We're just starting," Liam tells him.

The boy nods, taking off his hat to reveal blond hair with brown roots as he takes a seat directly across from Harry.

"Alright. Who wants to share first today?"

Once again, Harry doesn't say a word for the whole hour. 

And neither does Niall.

X

Harry's 14 when he forms a band with three of his mates. He sings, Nick plays the guitar, Zack plays the bass and Jordan plays the drums. And they're actually pretty good.

He's 15 when he tries weed for the first time; he's at a party and it's just there and it makes him feel all cool and mellow.

He's 17 when they perform in their first pub, despite being underage, because they're actually really good. It's the first time he really feels free and alive. He also tries his first ecstasy pill.

He's 18 when he realizes that taking drugs isn't just for fun anymore, but he's too stoned to care. And besides, he's about to go on stage. 

X

Harry saunters into the meeting five minutes late and everyone turns to look at him. Ashton's up at the podium, his brown, wavy hair falling into his eyes. Harry mutters a quiet "sorry", although he's not really, as his gaze narrows onto the only empty chair in the circle, which happens to be between Josh and Niall.

Niall's wearing a replica of the outfit he wore before, only his hat is dark blue. Harry sits next to him, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his legs at his ankles like he always does. [His therapist tells him that it's his way of closing himself off – and he's probably right.]

Harry glances sideways out the corner of his eye at this new boy, absentmindedly drowning out Ashton's voice in the process.

Niall looks every bit of the new boy as he is – quiet (not that Harry isn't quiet too), fidgety (he bites his nails when he looks nervous) and young. He looks so young; no older than 18, for damn sure. His skin is mostly pale, save for his flushed cheeks, and his eyes are wide and so blue and he looks kind of haunted behind the innocence that guards him. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb in this band of screwed up misfits; he looks like he belongs in a fraternity at some exclusive University. And for a fleeting moment he wonders what a boy that looks like Niall is doing in a place like this, wonders what his poison is and why. And then he remembers that he doesn't like people and he hates these meetings, so he follows Niall's gaze to where Ashton is standing and doesn't care.

X

Niall corners Harry after the next meeting – or, rather, he follows Harry outside.

Harry's the only one left in the room and he's in the midst of swinging his messenger bag over his shoulder when the door opens behind him. He glances behind him to see Niall rushing back into the room and straight towards the chair he was sitting in to collect his beanie – which Harry hadn't even seen before now – from the floor underneath. Today's hat is black. Harry decides to ignore him as he secures his own beanie on his head. That is, until Niall decides to speak.

"Hey."

Harry turns once more to face Niall as the boy pulls his beanie over his dyed blond hair. "Hey."

"Harry, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Niall."

"I know," Harry murmurs, turning to leave. To his dismay, Niall follows.

"So, uh, Liam's kind of...surprisingly happy-go-lucky, yeah?"

Harry shrugs. Everyone knows that Liam's had his own fair share of problems with certain substances, but Liam's also been clean the longest. "Yeah, I guess."

"He kind of reminds me of a puppy."

"Why a puppy?"

Niall shrugs this time, shoving his hands into his pockets as he continues to follow Harry down the hallway towards the front door. "I dunno, he just does, I suppose. Loyal, kind of soft and fluffy but protective..."

Harry nods in agreement. 

"So, is it true that you've never shared anything?"

Harry blinks, looking sideways at the boy next to him. He thinks about getting defensive, about demanding to know who told him, but then he remembers that it probably doesn't take a genius to figure it out anyway. "Yep."

"Can I ask why?"

"Why haven't you?" Harry retorts.

"Just getting a feel for things, ya know?"

The brunette nods, pushing the front door open and it's like walking into an ice cold wall. "I guess I just don't get the point in sharing my secrets with people who have no business knowing."

"That kind of defeats the purpose though, yeah? I mean, it's no secret why you're here – we're all here for the same reason."

Harry snorts. "I highly doubt that."

"But, I mean, basically. We all got a little fucked up and way too dependent on something that obviously wasn't good for us. Maybe the reason for that is different deep down, but we're all here for the same reason."

He has a point, Harry must admit. But he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it because he's at his car now and he doesn't owe this boy any kind of explanation. "This is me," he tells the boy.

"Right, yeah, okay. See ya next week then."

Harry completely ignores the fact that he sees Niall walking down the street a few blocks away, alone.

X

Sex. Drugs. And Rock 'n Roll. 

They're all beautiful and important things in Harry's life.

He has this dream of being famous – all four of them do. And they're so close that he can feel it, he can fucking taste it – and maybe it has something to do with the pills he gets to take at the after parties and the sex he gets to have with the groupies. But it's there. And that's all that matters to Harry, because this is music and music means more to Harry than anything. 

So what, if Gemma refuses to have anything to do with him anymore? And so what, if his mother doesn't understand him and cries because he's "changed"?

X

"Who wants to share first today?"

When nobody else raises their hand, Niall clears his throat and raises his. "I'll go."

Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise as Niall pushes himself to his feet, shoots a glance and one raised eyebrow in Harry's direction and makes his way to the podium. Harry can tell he's nervous by the way he bites his thumb nail whilst Liam claps him on the back. He finds himself sitting up a little straighter.

"So, uh, I'm Niall Horan, I'm 22," the blond boy starts.

"Hi Niall," everyone says together. 

"I'm, um, an alcoholic – which probably isn't all that surprising since I'm kind of Irish – and I've been sober for seven weeks."

Everyone claps encouragement and praise for him, including Harry. Though he only claps three times.

"Thank you," Niall nods, blushing from his cheeks to his ears. He leans forward, folding his arms across the top of the podium; Harry thinks this means he's found a bit of confidence. "I guess it started when I was 14; 's when I started drinking anyway, like, at parties and whatnot. When I was 16 my parents decided to get a divorce, so I did the usual teen angst thing and drank more. It numbed the pain, made me forget that my family was falling apart for a little while – it also made me too tired and lazy to cry myself to sleep, which was nice.

"Me brother, Greg – he's six years older than me, he moved out when I was 17 so it was just me mum and I at home; dad lived a few blocks away, forgot he had a family, never called, never came to my footie games... Mum just kind of shut down, threw herself into her work. Needless to say, I had all the access I wanted to the liquor cabinet in the basement so I took full advantage of it.

"Then when I was 19 I moved out, continued to work at this old record store in town during the week and then I scored gigs on Saturdays and Sundays at this pub down the street from my flat – and the pub basically just fed me alcohol. I don't think I had a single sober weekend for the two years I worked there. Other than alcohol, music was kind of my...escape, I guess. Playing the guitar just always made me feel good, ya know? And then it stopped making me feel good – or maybe it was the alcohol that didn't make it feel good...but either way I stopped playing, so I stopped working there. 

"And you know how it goes, right? Everyone you know just kind of puts up with you because they love you but then they start to tell you everything you're doing wrong with your life and you don't want to hear it so you kind of just shut everyone out – and they don't want to give up on you, but they do because they don't know what else to do and you don't really care, which just kind of makes everything worse.

"Greg stopped calling me, mum stopped checking up on me, my friends all started to pop out kids and get married. And my dad...he decide to date some girl young enough to be my fucking sister – her name's Amy – and four months later she was pregnant and they were engaged. And you know what they say, that sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you can lift yourself back up? 

"Well, my dad's wedding was my rock bottom. I showed up drunk, made a scene in front of everyone, made a fool of myself, made the poor bride cry – which I feel horrible about now, since she didn't even do anything wrong, yeah. So I had my meltdown and then Greg escorted me out of the church and told me to get my act together if I wanted anything to do with any of them.

"So I called Amy the next morning, hung over as shit, and apologized for ruining her wedding day. And then later on that day I threw whatever I could into a couple suitcases, hopped on a plane to London and checked myself into rehab. That was six weeks ago and even though I've talked to my family, I haven't been back to Ireland since."

Harry finds himself staring at the blond boy behind the podium and he doesn't realize it until Niall is staring back him as he walks back to his chair, smirking and nudging his head as if to tell Harry to go on up. Harry rolls his eyes in response and slumps back into his chair.

+

This time Niall waits for Harry before falling into step beside him as everyone gathers their things to leave.

"You should really think about getting up there, ya know. It's kind of liberating," Niall tells him as they start down the hall to the front doors. 

"Yeah, I don't think so," Harry mutters.

"Then why do you come?"

"My therapist makes me."

"Makes you?" Niall snorts. "What does he do, follow your every move?"

Harry can't help the smirk that spreads across his lips. "He kind of does, actually," he responds, pushing the front door open. The air is warmer outside than it was last week and, for that, Harry is glad. He hates the cold. 

"Well I was gonna say that's weird, mate, but I get the feeling it's kinda not."

"You'd be correct."

"Seriously, though, I mean it," Niall days softly. "You should think about getting up there, 'specially now that I have and I'm the new comer."

Harry rolls his eyes as he pulls the driver-side the door open and tosses his bag across the console onto the passenger side. "Look, Irish, I get it. You can share and feel liberated all you want, but it's not gonna happen for me, alright?" he snaps, glaring hard at the blond boy standing next to him.

Niall shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Your loss, mate," he says casually, turning to walk away. 

Harry sighs, climbing into his car and ignoring the guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

X

Everything's a blur. Everything's always a blur. 

It's all in pieces. 

Smoking up with Nick. 

Taking E with Nick.

A groupie, Cara, kissing him.

Nick kissing him.

Cara climbing onto his lap.

Falling onto the bed.

Nick falling off of the bed.

Cara crying, screaming, running.

Nick not breathing.

X

"So how's therapy going?"

Harry blinks, looking across the island at his roommate – the closest thing he has to a friend in this city – Louis. He shrugs, moving the soggy cereal around in his bowl. "Same ol', same ol'."

"Wow. That's very descriptive, Harold. It's almost as though I was there," Louis teases sarcastically, which is like breathing for him.

Harry rolls his eyes and a small chuckle escapes his throat. 

Louis grins. "Made you laugh."

"Shut up, Lou."

"What about the meetings? I know you hate them, but how are they going? You seem to complain about them a lot less lately."

"They're alright."

"Any – what does Liam call them? New comers?"

"Yeah. He's Irish."

"Irish?" Louis repeats curiously, raising his eyebrows with a peaked interest. "How Irish?"

Harry's brow comes together in confusion. "I dunno, he's Irish?"

"What does he look like?"

"Blond hair, brown roots, blue eyes, looks like he's 16-"

"What the hell, he's only 16?"

"No, he's 22, he just looks 16."

"Ah, baby face. Cute. Is he charming? The Irish tend to be incredibly charming-"

"He's actually kind of annoying, really – and why are we talking about him?"

"You brought him up-"

"You asked."

Louis looks thoughtful for a moment. "Fair enough."

X

"So, uh, my brother called me yesterday," Niall starts, leaning forward with his elbows on the podium.

Harry doesn't usually care for people's stories. He knows them, of course, and he listens to them, but only because not listening to them is just so boring. But there's something about Niall and the way he talks that makes him want to listen. There's something in his voice – and maybe it has something to do with his accent – that calls for his attention, draws him in. 

He feels like a primary school kid during show-and-tell.

"He said he'd been talking to mum and dad and that they want me to go visit them, said they'd pay for my plane tickets. And part of me wants to go, but part of me...wants to stay as far away from Ireland as possible. It's like, like in my head I connect Ireland with everything that went wrong with me, and I'm not sure I'm ready to go back there yet. 

"I mean, I haven't been there since I left. And apart from Skyping with me mum now and then and emailing my dad and talking on the phone with Greg, I haven't seen or heard from anyone in Ireland. And don't get me wrong, I love Ireland and I'm proud to be Irish, I just... I'm not sure I want to go back, at least not yet. And I don't really know how to tell them that.

"Sometimes I think it could be a good thing, you know? To face everything again and to...fix my relationship with my family. And I think it's good of them to want me to go there, but at the same time it's kind of selfish, isn't it? Expecting me to go back when I haven't seen them since before rehab? So then I think about getting them to fly up here, but that would be three times the money on plane tickets, which doesn't even include Greg's family or dad's new family - which is probably selfish on my part, yeah?”

Harry watches Niall from across the circle and he can see the conflict in the boy's blue eyes as he draws his story to a close and then takes his seat. There's something about the conflict residing there that bugs Harry, makes him feel uncomfortable and weird. He doesn't like it.

+

This time it's Harry who catches up with Niall when they're leaving the centre. 

"Do you need a ride?"

Niall looks sideways at him and pauses for a second. "I just live a couple blocks away, I can walk."

"I know, I've seen you walking," Harry responds. "It's on the way anyway."

"Okay, yeah. Thanks."

The car ride is relatively quiet except for a few directions given by Niall and only lasts about five minutes by the time Harry pulls up to a rather average-sized bungalow. Niall thanks him and goes to climb out of the car when Harry's voice stops him. "So, how long do you have to decide on going to Ireland?"

"I told Greg to gimme a few weeks to think about it. Probably got a month, tops," Niall replies, climbing out of the car. "As far as they know, I just can't get the time off work right now."

"Could you?" Harry asks before he can stop himself. "Get the time off, I mean."

"Oh, of course. Yeah. My boss will literally let me do anything I want, get away with anything. It's just, that's just what they think, which is fine with me."

Harry nods, adjusting himself back in his seat so he's facing the front of the car. 

"Anyway, thanks again, mate. See ya next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

Harry watches Niall as he hops up his front steps, waits for him to get the front door open before putting the gears in reverse. And if he feels a little tug in his chest when he sees a black-haired boy greet Niall with a hug in the doorway, he ignores it.

X

Louis drags him out to their favourite ice cream shop, despite Harry's protests. The snow is melting now, and spring is just around the corner so it's warm enough that he doesn't need a jacket but still, Harry just thinks it's too early for ice cream. But Harry goes anyway, because Louis has offered to pay for him and who is he, really, to say no to free ice cream?

Imagine his shock, then, when he sees a head of blond hair and blue eyes behind the counter. His stomach flips a little and freezes in the doorway. Niall has yet to notice him and so he thinks about bolting, leaving Louis to fend for himself and going back to wait in the car. But then Louis calls his name, loudly of course, and Niall does notice him and Harry's screwed. 

"Harry, hey mate," Niall greets him, leaning forward to rest his arms on the glass covered freezer next to the cash register. 

"Hey, Niall," Harry replies, ignoring Louis' intense, curious gaze. And he knows that Louis is doing the calculations in head; blond hair + blue eyes + charming, Irish accent-

"Holy shit," Louis comments, sounding amused. 

"Shut up, Lou," Harry mutters, elbowing the Doncaster native in the ribs as he walks up to counter. He then turns his attention to the boy behind the counter. "I didn't know you worked here."

"Why, come here often?" Niall asks, grinning cheekily at him.

Louis snorts behind Harry. "Good one, Irish. You can bet he'll be coming here more often now-"

"Ignore him, I do," Harry tells Niall, desperately hoping the blond really is ignoring him.

Niall smirks. "I just started here, like, a month ago."

"Oh."

"As you can see, it's very laid back here – especially since it's been, you know, winter," Niall points out. "Which is fine by me, 'cause then I get to eat all the ice cream."

"Really?"

"I told you, my boss lets me do whatever I want – even if that means getting several brain freezes a day. Besides, can't exactly let the ice cream go to waste."

Harry finds himself chuckling. "Which is good for business, I suppose."

"Exactly!"

"Uh, sorry to interrupt your weird flirting, but if you've quite finished, could I possibly order now?" Louis interjects. And even though Harry glares at him for the flirting comment, he's also kind of thankful.

"Yeah, of course. What can I getcha, mate?"

And Harry zones out for a minute, watching as Niall twirls the scoop in his hand before delving it into the double chocolate fudge ice cream, which is Louis' favourite. Niall laughs at something Louis says and Harry watches him throw his whole head back for a second before he continues to put scoops of ice cream into Louis' paper bowl. And Harry has a vague thought that, if he didn't know any better, he'd never know that Niall finished rehab just over a month ago.

"Harold!" Louis yells at him, snapping his fingers in his face. "My God, man, stop getting lost. What do you want?"

Harry blinks, straightening himself out as Niall stifles a giggle while looking at him expectantly. "Um, the butterscotch one."

"One of my favourites," Niall comments, "even if it does have the word 'scotch' in it."

Harry's eyes widen and he glances quickly at Louis, who doesn't even react. Did Niall really just say that? Did he really just point out the fact that maybe he was an alcoholic? 

"What do you think, should I get one for Eleanor? She likes the mint chocolate one, always talks about it. What do you think, Harry?"

"I think it'll melt before you can get it to her."

"Ugh, you're right. Maybe I'll bring her back later, when you're at work," he says, handing a few bills over to Niall, who punches both ice creams into the cash register. He then looks directly at Niall. "That's my girlfriend, by the way. Eleanor."

Niall laughs. "Right on, mate."

Harry rolls his eyes, which causes to Niall to laugh some more, as he follows Louis back to the entrance. "Thanks, Niall."

"No problem. I'll see ya later."

X

Niall asks him if he wants to grab a coffee with him after the meeting ends and, despite the voice in his head telling him not to, he finds himself saying yes. And then he ends up feeling jittery and nervous throughout the entire meeting – and not just because he has to tell himself that it isn't a date. Because he doesn't just hang out – or go for coffee – with people, because Louis is his only friend, really, and because the only people he sees outside of Louis and the people at these meetings and his therapist are his co-workers.

They wind up a few blocks away, in the opposite direction of Niall's house, sitting across from each other at the back of a small, family owned cafe. Niall tells him it's his favourite cafe ever because the coffee and tea is "to die for" and the couple who owns the place are so humble and welcoming that they're like a second set of parents. And Harry decides, to himself of course, that Niall isn't kidding.

"So tell me something," Niall tells him, leaning back against the back of the plush chair he's sitting in as he eyes Harry from across the small, round table. 

"Tell you what?"

The blond shrugs. "I dunno, anything. Something. About you. You certainly know more about me than I know about you and that's just not fair. C'mon, gimme something, mate."

Harry hesitates, staring across the table at Niall, who's holding his large mug between his palms in his lap. Niall doesn't look curious or excited, he just looks...thoughtful. Innocent. He sighs, leaning back against his own chair. "Um, I work in a bakery."

"A bakery? That's cool! Do you get to eat the pastries?"

"Sometimes," Harry chuckles. "The ladies do most of the baking, while I man the front cash register and make the displays look pretty. But one of them, the owner, she's started to teach me some things. Says she might just give me the bakery when she retires, since her own son has never been interested in it."

"Ladies, huh? Sounds like it could be kinky," Niall teases.

Harry snorts. "Hardly. They're all old – like, 60."

"That's even kinkier."

Harry rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his latte. 

"What's the tastiest thing on the menu?"

"Um, I dunno..."

"Oh c'mon! You mean to tell me that you get to taste pastries all day long and you don't even have a favourite? Rubbish."

"Strawberry Shortcake," Harry replies. "It's 'to-die-for'." Niall laughs, tossing his head back, and Harry can't help feeling a little bit proud for it. "They've even come out with strawberry shortcake muffins and cupcakes. I probably have one a day."

"And you still get to keep that shape?" Niall teases, making a point of looking him up and down. 

Harry has to fight the blush creeping up his neck. "Not without working out."

"I knew you worked out."

"Besides, you're one to talk. I've seen you eating sweets at the meetings," Harry points out.

"I just have a really fast metabolism – like, incredibly fast. I've tried to put weight on before and it's literally impossible."

This time it's Harry's turn to laugh – and he actually does. 

"So why a bakery? With old ladies?"

"Why an ice cream shop?"

"Because it's delicious, duh."

"Fair enough," Harry shrugs.

"Well, that, and it was suggested to me by one of the doctors at rehab. She said it would be in my best interest to start off slow, in a laid back kind of job before I decide on anything else. You know, baby steps."

"Yeah, I hear ya."

"You too?"

And Harry nods, because his therapist had said more of the same thing. 

Niall leans forward, then, placing his elbows on the table. "Anything else you'd like to share?"

And before Harry can stop the words from leaving his mouth they've already reached Niall's ears: "I used to be in a band."

Niall's eyes widen and his whole face lights up as he sits a little straighter. "Really?"

Harry thinks about changing the subject because he hasn't talked about the band to anyone but his therapist in ages – and that one time he told Louis everything the day they moved in together. But Niall looks interested and perky and Harry remembers how much Niall loves talking about music. "Yeah, with three mates from back home. I was the singer."

"Do you still sing?"

Harry shakes his head. "I haven't sung in...ages."

Niall does this thing where he nods and looks down into his mug for a minute before looking back up at him. It's like he gets it, like he knows what Harry's trying to say without him having to say it. "Do you want to?"

"I'd love to," Harry finds himself. "I'm just not sure I can."

Niall smiles softly and leans back once more against his chair. "Well I do have a guitar, so..."

Harry smiles back. "Yeah, maybe."

And then Niall delves into a story of how he fell in love before he even got his first guitar, like he senses that Harry doesn't want to talk about himself anymore. And he's right.

X

Gemma answers the phone on the second ring and Harry thinks about hanging up, but then a choked sob escapes his throat and Gemma's calling his name urgently and his head is spinning. "Harry, Haz, talk to me."

"Gem..." he sobs, his voice shaking. 

"Harry, what is it?"

"Gem, something's happened..."

"What, Haz, what's happened?"

"I – Nick, he...Gemma," he chokes out, and he can feel his whole body shutting down.

"Harry-"

"...he's not breathing, Gem..."

"Okay – okay, Bug, I'm coming, okay? I'm calling an ambulance and then I'll call mum-"

"No, not mum – not like this..."

"Okay, I won't call mum, but I'm coming, okay? I'm coming for you, Bug. I promise."

X

"So, have you decided whether or not you're gonna go to Ireland?"

They're sitting in the old cafe again, in the same table as the previous week. Harry can't help but wonder if they're going to make this a thing of theirs.

Niall sighs, "I don't know, man. I just – I don't know if it's the greatest idea, you know? I mean, Ireland is great and I love it...I just don't know if it's a great place for me. Ya know?"

"Yeah, no, I know what you mean," Harry agrees.

"Plus I just...seeing my family again, face to face, kind of scares me."

Harry blinks, looking at him. He can't imagine Niall being afraid of anything – well, except for small places, which he revealed at today's meeting. "Why?"

Niall shrugs. "Me mum's okay and she's happier now, says she's dating a bloke from her work, which is good for her. Greg and Denise are great, Theo's great. I guess it's just my dad I'm worried about."

Harry doesn't like the way Niall's gaze darkens at the thought of his father. "Why?"

"We've never had a good relationship." Niall shrugs again. "I was never good enough for him; I was plenty smart, plenty athletic, it was just never enough. Mum used to stick up for me when we'd get into fights, which would put rifts between them... And then one day, I came home from school, and they were just screaming at each other at the top of their lungs and all of a sudden he hit her. He just brought his arm up and back-handed her across the face and I just snapped. He ran at him and I tackled him to ground and I hit him, like, three times before Greg walked in and broke everything up. Two months later mum asked for a divorce and even though I knew it was the best thing, it just...fucked with me, I guess."

"Jesus, Niall," Harry whispers. He thinks about sliding his hand across the table to put his hand over Niall's, but he doesn't. "You...you've never talked about that before..."

"No, that's something I don't talk about," Niall admits. "It's like, talking about being an alcoholic is the easiest thing in the world, for me, you know? Like it's not a big deal, it just is what it is. But talking about that just...I hate it."

"But things are better now, right? I mean..." Harry trails off, because he wants Niall to think about happy thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah, things are better. Yeah," Niall murmurs, shifting in his seat as he takes a sip of his tea. "I dunno, we'll see."

"Yeah, of course."

"Tell me something, Harry," the blond says and it almost sounds like a plea. "Tell me something that makes you happy."

Harry thinks for a minute – thinks about the smile on his sister's face when she Skypes him from her dorm room at uni, thinks about the look in his mother's eyes the last time he saw her (proud, relieved, loving), thinks about Niall. "Sunrises," he says instead.

Niall smiles. "Why sunrises?"

"Because it means it's a new day. It means you've survived to see a new day. Means you're still living."

"But we don't get many sunrises here," Niall points out. "It's mostly just clouds and...clouds."

"True," Harry chuckles. "But that just makes the ones we do get that much better."

Niall sits back in his chair, observing him silently for a moment and it creates goose pimples on Harry's arms. "I know you don't like to talk, but you should talk more often.” 

Harry has to fight a blush that tries to spread across his cheeks; he finds himself doing that a lot lately. 

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"What would you say if I asked you to come with me to Ireland?"

"I..." Harry trails off, blinking rapidly in surprise. "I don't – I don't know."

"Think about it, yeah?"

Harry nods. "Yeah."

X

"Who are you texting?"

"What? No one," Harry mutters, lounging on the couch, even though he's obviously texting. 

Louis snorts, dropping himself into his favourite – only – chair in the flat. "Lies. It's Niall, isn't it? You always get this look on your face whenever you talk to him."

Harry looks up at him. "What look?"

"I dunno, your happy face. What are you guys talking about? Sex? Please tell me it's sex."

"He's trying to decide between pizza and Chinese for dinner, Lou. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I'm still trying to figure out how you keep yours out of the gutter considering the bloke's smokin'," Louis chuckles. 

"He wants Chinese, Zayn wants pizza. This is his dilemma."

"Tell him to get both. That way they can switch for lunch tomorrow, or just have whatever's left. Who's Zayn?"

"His roommate," Harry replies distractedly as he stares down at his phone, his thumbs moving quickly across the keyboard. 

"And this roommate, is he-"

"Zayn has a girlfriend."

"Oh, well good. That's good. Means you still have a chance."

Harry groans. "Shut up, Lou."

Louis grins cheekily at him and then less than a second later the look on his face falls serious. "I think you should tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"About you. About it. I know you don't like to talk at these meetings, but this is just Niall, Harry."

Harry sighs, shaking his head as he pushes himself to his feet. "I can't."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes, but-"

"Do you trust him, Harry?"

Harry blinks, looking directly at Louis. "With my life." And he does. Because Niall is loyal and protective – like a puppy; like Liam – and he knows that Niall would never do anything to hurt him, not intentionally. It's just himself that he doesn't trust; himself that he's afraid of.

"Then you need to tell him, Harry. He won't think any less of you."

X

Harry sits across from Niall in the kind of empty diner down the street from Niall's house and he's watching him, listening to him talk adamantly about how Ashton wants to jam sometime - because Josh plays the drums – and he thinks Harry should sing with them. Harry hasn't told him no yet because Niall looks excited, albeit a little bit tired, and Harry doesn't want to ruin that. 

It's nearly 2 o'clock in the morning and Harry's usually in bed by 10, but Niall had called him a little over an hour ago in the middle of what he denies was an anxiety attack. Niall had finally agreed to visit Ireland next weekend and after talking to his brother about it, he'd been anxious and unable to sleep so Harry drove across town to pick him up and take him to get something to eat.

And now here they are and Niall's eyes look shiny and sleepy despite the excitement written all over his face as he talks about the possible jam session with Ashton and Josh – and Harry, maybe. 

"Anyway, it'd be cool if you didn't want to too," Niall says, popping a French fry into his mouth.  
"I just – I really want to hear you sing, yeah. And, I mean, if it made you more comfortable to just do it with me first, like as a trial thing, that'd be cool too. It's up to you."

"I'll think about it," Harry tells him, because his heart isn't into saying 'no' just yet. 

"Sick, bro," Niall grins, popping another fry into his mouth. "So, I feel bad for making you come out in the middle of the night so I'll get the bill, yeah?"

"No, Niall, it's fine. I promise."

"Too late," Niall shrugs, looking mischievous. "I already paid on the way to the bathroom earlier."

"Prat."

Niall grins at him again, showing all his teeth and cocking his head slightly to the side. "Hah."

Harry licks his lips, then, as he shifts uncomfortably in his side of the booth. "I'm gonna tell you something, Niall. But you have to promise not to freak out."

"Why would I freak out?" Niall wonders, falling impossibly serious in a matter of seconds.

Harry shrugs. 

"I won't freak out. Promise."

The brunette takes a deep, shaking breath as he glues his gaze to Niall beautiful, calming, blue eyes. "I killed someone."

Niall's eyes widen and he flinches and he looks confused and like he's trying really hard not to freak out like he promised and Harry wants to take all the words back, those three ugly words. He wants to go back to thirty seconds ago when Niall was laughing and smiling at him, wants to at least pretend that he didn't just say that. 

But he gets up to leave instead. "I-I'm sorry, forget I – I didn't mean – let’s just go, I'll drive you back – I-"

Niall's fingers curl around his hand in a tight grip. "Harry – Harry, stop. It's okay," he murmurs, coaxing him into stopping trying to flee. "Just...just talk to me."

"Y-You're freaking out," Harry whispers, and his voice shakes. 

"I'm not," Niall says softly. "I promise, I'm just – I wasn't expecting that. I'm fine. Just talk to me."

And then Harry nods and he's falling back into his side of the booth and Niall is urging him to continue. So he does. "I didn't technically kill him, I just might as well have. We were...he was in the band with me, he played the guitar. We'd been friends for as long as I could even remember and we always had this dream of being in a band and touring the world, so we started one up with a couple of our other friends – and we were actually pretty good. 

"And then, like the rock stars we wanted to be, we got into drugs. 't started out with just weed – and then a little bit of coke every once in a while and sometimes other stuff and it was just so easy to get it. We'd started playing shows at random places for random events and sometimes those places were pubs, even though we weren't even legal to drink yet and then we'd always end up back stage or out back and there was always drugs readily available. Always.

"It was just...it was like a hobby at first, ya know? Just something we did sometimes after shows – sometimes before shows – and then it wasn't. It was something we did all the time, like when we were playing video games in Jordan's basement or after a long day's work. And the more shows we played, the more drugs we took and that was just the way it was.

"And then we got groupies. Well, we'd kind of always had groupies but they were always so young and impressionable, but then we became legal and we could play in all the higher-end pubs and there were so many girls. And so, yeah, it became the sex, drugs and rock 'n roll thing – just...kind of more sex and drugs than rock 'n roll. 

"And Nick and I...we'd always been close, ya know? And one night we were having a party at his place and he came up to me all drugged up and drunk and started talking about how some girl wanted to have a threesome, so we took her upstairs and..." For the first time since he started to talk, he makes eye contact with Niall before letting his gaze wander over his face. He isn't sure what he's expecting, exactly – maybe a bit of panic and disgust. But Niall just looks like Niall. And Niall reaches across the table, then, putting his hand over Harry's and Harry keeps his gaze on Niall as he continues. "Threesomes kind of became a thing after that and the more drugs we took beforehand made it all the better – kind of heightened your senses, but dulled them at the same time. It was addicting.

"And then one day, about a year ago, my mum found a bag of pills in my jacket in the front hall and she came into my room livid and freaking out and I got really defensive and angry – so angry – and I just started to scream at her. I couldn't stop screaming and yelling at her, not even when she started to cry. And my mum and I never fought; she was the always the cool mum among my friends and we just always got along really well – and here I was screaming at her, scaring her. Then Gemma came into the room and tried to get us to stop, tried to get me to calm down and the second she touched my shoulder I turned around on her and I...I pushed her," he murmurs. His voice shakes violently, thick with tears, and his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he lets out a shaky breath. Niall's thumb runs over the top of Harry's hand. 

"She – both of them looked at me like they didn't even know who I was. Gemma told me she didn't want anything to do with me and my mum just cried and left. They'd always known I did...that drugs were involved, but they'd never actually seen them, so it was never – it was never a thing for them. So I packed a bag and went to stay with Nick for a while; didn't talk to either of them for months. 

"And then Nick, he...he went out one night and I'd stayed home 'cause I just didn't feel like it and when he came back he had a girl with him, Cara, and she wasn't ready to stop partying, so Nick roped me into partying with them – not that that was very hard. Caroline came up with this idea for a drug-sex game so we went upstairs and-

"-and Nick collapsed part way through. He just fell over and he started convulsing and Cara started screaming and crying and I got down on the floor with him, put his head in my lap and tried to – tried to help him. I yelled for Cara to call an ambulance but she was a mess and then she just ran away and left me there to deal with it. And then Nick stopped convulsing and stopped breathing altogether; I tried to do CPR on him, the way I'd been taught when I was younger, but it wouldn't work. So I started to panic and I grabbed my phone and called the first person I could think of, which was Gemma.

"The second I heard her voice I lost it and tried to tell her what happened but the only thing I could say was that he wasn't breathing. She left when we were still on the phone, said she would call an ambulance for me and then call mum, but I begged her not to. 

"The paramedics, they said he was dead on arrival, that there was nothing they could do and I remember yelling at them, telling they had to do something, but they just...they put him in a body bag and took him away. And I was still drugged up, so they took me to the hospital to make sure nothing would happen to me and the police were there, questioning me about what happened so I told them everything. I thought Gem would leave the second she heard the whole story but she didn't... Then the police left, labeling it an accident – told me I should think about sorting myself out – and then Gemma took me home.

"And I remember being so scared of what my mum would say – of what she would do. By the time we got home, I was mostly sober and Gemma had to coax me into the house. My mum was in the kitchen when we got there and she came running out into the living room when we came in and I just...I broke. I threw myself at her, started sobbing to the point where I couldn't breathe and she pulled me onto the couch with her so she could hold me. It felt like I was a kid again, trying to ball myself up in her, and she stroked my hair and whispered over and over that everything was going to be okay – and even though I wasn't a kid anymore, I believed her. I needed to believe her.

"A couple days later she checked me into the rehab here in London; she believed that I needed to get away from home and I just...I just needed to get away from the drugs. Because of what happened with Nick, they gave me a separate therapist to help work through those...issues. That's why I still see him; getting over the drugs was easy compared to getting over death – which makes staying off drugs even harder," he murmurs. "My mum decided to pay him for an extra six months or something outside of my rehab, which ends this month which means I won't have to see him anymore unless I want to and unless I pay for it. He's the reason I even go those meetings, 'cause he has this deal with Liam that if I don't then Liam will tell him." He holds his breath for a second, waiting for Niall to get up and bolt and probably never talk to him.

Instead, Niall squeezes Harry's hand – which alerts Harry that Niall’s still, in fact, holding his hand on the table – and looks at him affectionately. Niall's eyes are glazed over, like he's trying not to cry. But then so is Harry. Harry stares at Niall sheepishly, bouncing his leg up and down underneath the table; he's afraid. Afraid of what Niall will say, what he'll think.

"I wish...Harry, I wish I knew what to say," Niall murmurs, running his thumb over Harry's palm.

Harry shakes his head, pulling his hand out of Niall's. "You don't have to say anything, I just...I just thought you should know," he admits, moving to get out of the booth once more. "We should go, you look tired. C'mon." And he's walking towards the door before Niall's even out of his side of the booth. 

"Harry," Niall calls after him. "Harry, hey, stop. Don't run away from me." He reaches for Harry's hand to stop him, pulling him back around; Harry's eyes are hard and guarded again. "I'm glad you told me."

"I don't tell people that, Niall. The only people who know are the people who were there, my mum, my therapist and Louis, okay?"

"I'm not judging you, Harry. I would never judge you," Niall promises.

Harry nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

"I know it doesn't mean much to people like us, but...I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

The corners of Harry's mouth twitch into a half smile as Niall pulls him into a hug. Harry's surprised at first; tense, because it's been months since he's felt somebody's hug – apart from his mum or Gem. He melts into the embrace quickly, burying his chin into the fabric of Niall's hood near his neck as he clutches at the fabric at Niall's back. "Thank you," he whispers.

"Don't thank me."

"I want to go to Ireland with you," Harry says suddenly, and even he's surprised. 

Niall pulls back, his grin spreading from ear to ear. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

X

"So it's like a couple's getaway," Louis says, sitting cross-legged on Harry's bed while Harry packs clothes into a suitcase. 

"We aren't a couple."

"Yet."

Harry rolls his eyes, tossing another plaid shirt into the suitcase. "Do you think that's enough?"

"Plaid? Yes, you have way too much," Louis replies. "Now, what do you and Niall have planned on this getaway?"

"I dunno, nothing really," Harry shrugs. "He'll be visiting his family; I'm just going for moral support. Besides, people mostly just drink in Ireland and Niall can't, so..."

Louis' eyes widen. "Oh so you'll be meeting his parents. I dunno, mate, that sounds like something a couple would do."

"Except we're not a couple."

Louis smirks. "Yet."

X

Niall's nervous before they even get on the plane. He's antsy and jittery and his knee won't stop bouncing until Harry distracts him with a few (terrible) knock-knock jokes. 

Niall's nervous on the plane too; gets up to use the washroom six or seven times, stares out the window, asks Harry if he thinks they could just jump on the next plane back to London when they land. 

Niall's terrified as they make their way out of the terminal; has to take deep breaths to calm himself down, grabs onto the wall so he doesn't faint a few times, seriously wonders about turning around. So Harry does the only thing he can think of and grabs Niall's hand, laces their fingers together and pulls him the rest of the way. 

The airport isn't all that busy, but there’s quite a few people coming and going and there are a few people standing in a line holding signs with names on them and Harry doesn't know who he's looking for, so he looks for Niall's name. Niall sees it before him and his entire body tenses next to Harry's. And that's when Harry sees them: a short woman with dark, dyed blond hair – not all that different from Niall's, with a wide, bright smile, waving her arm around ecstatically and a young-looking couple with a baby sitting on the man's hip. 

And then Niall's letting go of Harry's hand and he's taking off in the direction of the people behind the "Niall" sign. Harry watches the blond boy throw himself at who he can only assume is his mother – and by the time he joins them, Niall's hugged his brother and his sister-in-law and he's got Theo in his arms; Theo, who's staring at Niall like he's the most interesting thing in the world. (Harry secretly agrees with Theo.)

"Guys, this is my...um, Harry," Niall says, glancing between Harry and his family. Harry shifts awkwardly on his feet, smiling at them politely. "Harry, this is me mum, Maura, and Greg and his wife Denise. And this little fella right here," he says, bouncing Theo around playfully, "this is one of my favourite people in the whole world, Theo."

"It's very nice to meet you," Harry says, putting his hand out to shake their hands. He turns to Theo, then, and raises his fist for a fist bump. "Hi Theo."

Theo stares up at him for a moment, his expression blank, before Niall takes Theo's own fist and bumps it gently against Harry's. 

+

They find themselves back at Niall's old house with his mum, her boyfriend Darrel, Greg, Denise and Theo. Niall spends most of his time playing around with Theo and talking to Greg in the living room – while Harry spends most of his own time following Niall – as Maura and Denise prepare dinner in the kitchen. 

"So things are good, right, bud?” Greg asks Niall. 

Niall's sigh as he tickles Theo's tummy tells Harry he's heard this question multiple times before and he knows exactly how Niall feels. "Yeah, things are good," Niall replies, because that's all he can say. "We just...we just take it day by day." He glances sideways at Harry, then, who's sitting on the couch a few feet away from Niall is on the floor and Harry nods. 

Greg must notice the look exchanged between them because all of a sudden he's looking at Harry. "Niall's told me that you two met at his meetings-"

"Greg," Niall protests.

Greg ignores him. "Says you help keep him sane."

Harry shrugs, noticing the way Niall's cheeks have turned pink. "Well I dunno about that, Niall's always seemed fine on his own. I think he's always been the one keeping me sane."

Greg grins. "Well, good."

"Dinner!" Maura calls from inside the kitchen. 

And, as per usual whenever there's food involved, Niall jumps to his feet, with Theo in his arms, and races towards the kitchen. Harry and Greg get up to join the others as well, but then Greg places his hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry has no choice but to look at the older gentleman. 

"He's fond of you, looks up to you. He's always felt really...alone in this whole thing, ya know, and you make him feel less alone. I just thought you should know, mate."

Harry nods, the corners of his mouth lifting into an appreciative smile.

Later that night, after brushing his teeth and changing into a baggy pair of flannel pajama pants and a plain white T-shirt – he prefers sleeping in the nude, but he's not about to do that in a house full of people who don't know him – he's on his way back to Niall's bedroom, where they've decided share his old bed. He stops in his tracks outside the doorway when he hears Maura's voice inside. He knows he shouldn't listen, that they're probably having a private conversation, but he leans against the wall anyway and listens.

"-glad you decided to come for a visit, love. We've missed you 'round here," Maura's saying.

"I miss you too, mum," Niall whispers back. 

"And we're all very, very proud of you, Niall. You've been so strong and so positive throughout this whole thing and you're doing so well, babe, so well."

"Thanks."

"So...Harry seems nice," she giggles. 

"Mum, stop," Niall groans. 

"What? He does."

"He is. I mean, he's a little rough around the edges at first, especially when you try to pry, but he's a good guy. I just wish he would see it too."

"And the two of you, are you-"

"We're friends."

"Just friends?"

"I dunno, mum. He's gone through some things and I just...I dunno. But I'm fine being just friends if that's what he wants, so..."

"I'm not sure that he'd come all the way here to Ireland with you, and meet your family, if you were just friends, Niall."

Niall sighs. "Look, mum, he's gonna be back any minute so can you just-"

"Go? Yeah, I'll go."

Harry decides at that moment to make his presence known by pushing himself off the wall and walking into the room. "Um, hey."

Niall's eyes widen as he stands in the middle of the room in a pair of solid grey pajama pants and a blank muscle shirt. "Hey."

Maura steps forward, pulling Niall down by the strap of his shirt to press her lips against his forehead. "Goodnight, Love," she murmurs. She then turns to Harry and pulls him into a warm hug, "goodnight, Harry, darling. Sweetest dreams boys."

Niall and Harry both say goodnight at the same time as Maura leaves the room and shuts the door behind her, leaving the two of them of completely alone.

Harry looks at Niall, who looks at him, and suddenly the air in the room is thicker than before. Heavier. 

"So, uh, sorry about her," Niall says softly as he moves over to the bed. "She's very, um, motherly."

Harry shrugs. "Mine's the same, I'm used to it." He takes a minute to look Niall's room over – posters of bands (lots of the Eagles), shelves full of old, childhood toys, a dresser full of random stickers. It's all very...Niall, he supposes. 

"Do you sleep on the left side or the right side?"

Harry glances at Niall, who's waiting beside the bed. "Right."

"Perfect, I like to sleep on the left side. Also, I should warn you that I sometimes have a habit of cuddling in my sleep, so..."

"'S okay. I don't mind a little sleepy cuddle every now and then."

Niall grins, throwing himself onto the bed. Harry follows suit. 

+

They meet up with Niall's father, Bobby, the following morning in a cafe around the corner from his mother's house. Things are little weird and awkward at first and Harry can see the tension in Niall's shoulders, but Niall acts fine; he smiles and he laughs and he makes jokes with his father and things are going quite well, Harry thinks. They pick up lunch at a little family-owned deli a few blocks away and Bobby even makes conversation with Harry over lunch; asks him about Holmes Chapel and what kind of music he likes and what TV shows he watches. 

Bobby drives them all back to his house across town and Harry can see Niall's leg bobbing up and down nervously, so he leans forward and places a comforting hand on Niall's shoulder. Niall lifts one of his own hands and squeezes Harry's fingers before dropping it back into his lap.

Amy turns out to be very pretty and very, very pregnant. "I'm literally about to burst," she says, when Niall comments on the fact that she should be having the baby any day now. Bobby disappears into his office for a few minutes while Amy gives them a tour of the house. She's very nice and charismatic, Harry decides, but he doesn't tell Niall that because Niall's tense enough as it is. 

Dinner even goes well and although some of the conversation feels forced and awkward, it's not all that bad. And then all of a sudden – and Harry isn't exactly sure how, perhaps it's when it becomes clear to Bobby that Niall had met Harry at the meetings – Niall and Bobby are yelling at each other from opposite ends of the dining room table, while Amy and Harry are forced to watch and listen awkwardly. 

"-yeah well you don't get to dictate who I can and can't see!" Niall yells, pushing himself to his feet violently. And Harry's truthfully never seen Niall so angry; didn't even know he could get this angry. 

"I just don't think it's the greatest idea for you to be involved with-"

"With what, dad? With someone who's just as fucked up as I am?! Lemme tell you something, Bobby, you're no better than either of us. Fuck, at least we can admit that we're fucked up!"

"That is not something to be proud of!"

"Yeah, well, you've never been very proud of me anyway," Niall mutters, looking down at his empty plate.

"Don't start with that bullshit, Niall."

"What you can 'bullshit', I call a whole childhood, so."

"What the hell does that mean?!"

"What the fuck do you think it means?!"

"I have always tried to do right by you and your brother-"

"Oh is that what you call it? Really? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now? Am I supposed to forgive you? Why should my forgiveness matter when you've got a brand-spanking-new family to give you a second chance?"

Harry blink, glancing across at Amy, who's looking down at her own empty plate. "Niall-"

"You know who I do feel sorry for though? I feel sorry for you, Amy, because you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

Bobby gaps at him angrily, but Niall continues.

"You know who else I feel sorry for? That baby. That baby is gonna be incredibly disappointed when they find out how much of a douche his or her father is; I know I was."

If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think Niall was drunk right now because of this sudden rage he's on.

"And you know, I think it's really ironic how judgmental you are about my relationship with Harry when you married a girl young enough to be your fucking daughter."

"That's enough!" Bobby bellows, slamming his hands down on the table as he jumps to his feet. "I will not allow you to speak to me like that in my own house!"

Niall smirks then, shrugging his shoulders. "That's fine, 'cause I didn't want to be here anyway."

Harry pushes himself to his feet as Niall begins to gather himself and his things. 

"I just have one question, though, dad. One I should have asked on your wedding day. How does it feel to have my sloppy seconds?"

A dozen things happen at once, then: Harry freezes, Amy gasps and flinches, Bobby lunges forward, Amy holds him back and then Niall's walking out the front door before anyone can react. 

Harry finally shakes himself into his senses again and he apologizes awkwardly before running out after Niall. He falters on the doorstep, looking right and then left, to see that Niall has already made it far enough down the street that Harry will have to run to catch up with him. "Niall!" he calls out, running after him. "Niall, stop. Niall!"

He's out of breath by the time he reaches the blond boy. "Niall," he pants, reaching for Niall's elbow. 

Niall flinches, pulling his arm away from Harry. "Please, don't," he whispers. "I just need to be alone."

The shakiness in Niall's voice scares Harry and he shakes his head. "I can't do that, Niall," he murmurs, reaching for Niall once more. 

Niall throws himself around this time, whirling around to face him. "I can't do this right now, okay?! Just...leave me alone."

Harry blinks, falling a few steps back at Niall's words. "O-okay."

And then Niall's walking away again and Harry can't do anything but watch. Amy calls out to him seconds later and tells him to come back inside until Niall comes back – if he comes back, Harry thinks – and Harry has nowhere else to go, so he goes.

+

A half an hour goes by and Niall doesn’t call or text. So Harry calls and texts Niall, pleading with him to come back or to at least call back and let them know that he's okay, for another half an hour before he decides to go look for him. Bobby tells him where to look first - a pub, that Harry vaguely remembers Niall mentioning during one of his stories – while he's pulling his jacket on. He even offers to drive, but Harry declines because it's only a couple blocks away and he's sure that if Niall happened to see his father's care outside – sees Harry climbing out of it – it might only make things worse. 

It turns out Niall is at the pub; Harry can see him sitting at the bar through the window. He breathes a sigh of relief, staring at the blond boy for a moment – and then he notices the large mug of beer sitting on the counter in front of him and it's like all of the air leaves Harry's lungs and his heart falls into the pit of his stomach. No. No no no. 

He finds himself stumbling into the bar and then making his way towards Niall; he has half a mind to throttle the bartender behind the counter for serving Niall, like the lad should know better. He slides onto the stool next to Niall, whose only acknowledgement of him is the fact that Niall nods in his direction. 

"Niall-"

"I'm not drinking it," Niall mutters, staring down into dark liquid. "And I haven't had any."

Harry lets out a breath he didn't even know he's been holding. "Then why..."

Niall shrugs. "It's just...it's just a thing I do sometimes. Whenever I've had a shit day or if the craving gets too crazy I'll drop by a pub, order a beer and just sit there until it goes away. I tried to do it at home a couple times, but Zayn freaked out; he likes to keep the house an 'alcohol free zone'. I just have to prove to myself that I'm stronger than my addiction."

"You are stronger, Niall."

"I should hope so," the blond smirks, glancing sideways at Harry. "I've been staring at this thing for the last hour and I haven't even tried to take a sip, so."

Harry smiles softly, relieved. "Well for whatever its worth, I'm proud of you, Ni."

Niall smiles back at him briefly before looking back into the glass. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

Harry licks his lips, folding his arms across the counter. "It's okay."

"It's not. It's just – we just get like that, all the time, me an' 'im. Whenever we have to spend more than a few hours together one of us always picks a fight. It's like clockwork."

"I mean, it's gonna take more than a month in rehab and a few months away to fix your relationship," Harry points out. "It won't happen overnight."

"It probably won't happen ever."

"But it might."

Niall chuckles, looking sideways at him again. "Who turned you into Mr. Positive?"

"You," Harry replies honestly, grinning cheekily at him.

Niall laughs, then, and tosses his head back a little. He looks back at the glass in front of him before pushing it across the counter so that it’s closest to the bartender's side of the bar. 

Harry smiles to himself, looking down. And then a thought pops into his head and - "when you said 'sloppy seconds', did you, um..."

"We dated, briefly," Niall confirms. "Hooked up a few times in high school, even introduced her to my parents the morning after once – which was awkward. And then, yeah, a couple years later she's engaged to me dad."

"Oh. Wow."

Niall snaps his head around to look at Harry rather quickly. "That's not-I'm not mad at him about that – I mean it's not like the two of us had any kind of future together anyway – it's just that-"

"Yeah – no, I know," Harry says quickly.

"Okay," Niall breathes. 

"He told me where to find you, by the way. Your dad..."

Niall snorts. "Oh please, it wouldn't have taken you very long to figure it out on your own; it doesn't take a genius."

Harry nods, but shrugs his shoulders. "Still. He still told me."

Niall nods and then spins himself around and jumps off the stool, his beer mug forgotten. "How 'bout we go back to me mum's? 'm not ashamed to say that I will likely be crawling into bed early tonight."

Harry laughs, following Niall towards the door as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Hey, Niall?"

"Hmm?"

"How 'bout next time you feel like you have to order a drink you just call me instead? We can go the gym or go to that diner we went to that one time," Harry suggests, because he really doesn't like Niall tempting himself with a glass of alcohol.

Niall looks sideways at him curiously. "Is that what you do? Go to the gym?"

Harry nods. 

"Okay."

+

When they're lying in Niall's bed that night, Harry facing Niall's back with his arms curled into his chest and one of his hands tucked under his pillow, he remembers what Greg had told him the previous day and whispers, "you aren't alone, Ni. I'll never leave you alone.”

"I know," Niall whispers back. 

X

Ireland changes things for Harry. Niall seems to go about pretending that nothing happened, but Harry doesn't know that he can forget. He can’t forget the way Niall stuttered when he introduced Harry to his brother and his mother; how he said "my Harry." Can't forget what Greg told him about Niall being fond of him; what else has Niall told him? Can't forget the conversation he overheard between Niall and his mum. Or the way Bobby had implied that they were together and Niall hadn't bothered to correct him. Or the way Niall really had cuddled up against him in his sleep and Harry had woken up to Niall's legs tangled in his and Niall's left arm thrown over Harry's waist and Niall's face buried into Harry's shoulder.

Nor can he ignore the butterflies that come to life in his stomach whenever he sees Niall or the way his heartbeat quickens in his chest when Niall speaks or the fact that his palms kind of sweat when Niall looks at him. 

A few months ago Harry wouldn't have cared less about this blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who's full of far too much energy and talks way too much. But Niall has wormed his way into Harry's life – into his heart, even; so much so that the boy is like a permanent fixture now. And as far as Harry's concerned, Niall's not allowed to leave.

So, yeah, Ireland changes a lot of things for Harry – and Harry isn't sure if anything's changed Niall.

X

Louis corners him when he gets home from dropping Niall off with Zayn, who's already fretting over whether Niall had a good time. 

Harry barely makes it through the door and into the living room to sees Louis and his girlfriend Eleanor curled up on the sofa before Louis is asking questions. "Where's Niall? Did you have a good time? How's Ireland?"

"Niall's at home," is all Harry says – well, that, and a quick hello to Eleanor – before he's pulling his suitcase down the hall to his bedroom. 

And then Louis is pulling Eleanor down the hall and they're both in Harry's room before Harry can close the door behind him. Eleanor sits cross-legged in the middle of Harry's bed, rolls her eyes as Louis continues to ask questions and sends Harry an apologetic look. Because they both know that neither one of them can control Louis.

"So what happened? Where did you stay again? Did you shag? Please tell me you shagged. Is he a top or a bottom? Part of me thinks he's a bottom, right, cause he's all fragile and compact – but part of me also feels like he can top because he just has that kind of personality. Oh and is he a talker? I feel like he's a talker, you know? Like he likes to talk during sex and maybe begs a little if he's a bottom."

"Oh my God, Louis," Eleanor whines playfully, rubbing her hands over her face like she's sick of him. 

"What? They're valid questions! They were alone in Ireland for two days-"

"We weren't alone-"

"-and there's obviously sexual tension between them."

"We haven't even kissed yet," Harry says, tossing his dirty clothes into the hamper next to his door. 

Louis blinks, look incredulously between Harry and Eleanor. "WHAT?! How have you not kissed yet?"

Harry shrugs defensively. "I don't know, it just hasn't happened."

"I cannot believe you haven't kissed that boy yet, Harold. Hurry it up, would you?" Louis snaps, marching out of the room. He forgets Eleanor on the bed. 

Eleanor smiles softly at Harry as she climbs to her feet and pats him on the shoulder. "He just really, really wants you to be with Niall," she whispers before pressing a friendly kiss to his cheek and leaving him alone. 

"Yeah," Harry sighs, flipping face first onto his bed. "Me too."

X

It's well into spring time now. Harry's back to just wearing jeans and t-shirts and maybe the occasional flannel shirt if it's windy out. And Niall's taken to just wearing jeans and band shirts and sometimes one of Harry's long-sleeved shirts if he's cold.

They're currently lounging about in Niall's and Zayn's backyard, both of them laying back on long lawn chairs. Harry's fully clothed because it's kind of windy despite the glaring sun, but Niall's taken off his shirt. The boy is a pasty kind of white, sort of like porcelain; it's almost blinding, but Harry still manages to find himself staring.

"Remind me why we're doing this again?" 

"I dunno why you're doing this," Niall replies, a playful edge in his tone. "But it's practically impossible for me to tan so I'm getting a head start on the summer."

Harry laughs, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses as he looks up at the sky. It's one of those rare, cloudless days in London and both of them just wanted to enjoy the day outside – and in each other's company. It's one of those days where parents actually like bringing their kids to the park, where couples can actually enjoy taking a long walk in the outdoors or putting out a blanket in a field for a picnic. 

"Hey, Ni?" Harry says suddenly, because he's just had a thought.

"Hmm?"

"Play something for me."

Niall sits up and rolls onto his side, leaning on his elbow as he looks curiously at Harry. "Only if you sing for me."

Harry smiles shyly. "Deal."

Niall disappears into the house and comes out seconds later with his guitar in hand. Harry sits up, facing Niall as the blond sits back down with the guitar sitting comfortably in his lap. "What do you want to hear?"

"What you want me to hear?"

Niall looks thoughtful for a moment and Harry just watches him. He plays a few cords to make sure it's tuned properly and then licks his lips as he looks back at Harry. "I've been working on this melody for a few months now and nobody's heard it before. So lemme know whatcha think, yeah?"

Harry nods, smiling softly as Niall begins to play. It's got a sort of an upbeat but soft, kind of bubbly, bohemian-like indie vibe about it and Harry loves it. It's catchy and it's beautiful and it sounds amazing. And Harry decides that Niall looks beautiful when he plays. Harry watches the way his face lights up as his fingers dance across the strings of the guitar, watches the way Niall's left knee bounces to the rhythm and the way he gets right into the music. It's one of the most beautiful things Harry's ever seen. 

"That was perfect, Ni," Harry tells the blond when he looks up at him. 

Niall raises his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely."

Niall's cheeks turn pink and he dips his face in an attempt to hide it. "So, what do you want to sing?"

Harry licks his lips, bringing his hands together in his lap. "Do you know Don't Let Me Go?"

"I do, actually! It's mostly all piano, right? I challenged myself a while ago to learn it on the guitar. That one?"

Harry nods. 

Niall starts to play and Harry starts to sing at the cue and they fall so gracefully into the song that it even surprises Harry how in sync they are. Harry hasn't sung in what feels like forever and so his voice is a bit raspier than it usually is, but other than that it's like riding a bike; it just comes naturally. And this is the type of song that he can feel, especially because he's with Niall, which makes it that much easier. 

Niall's staring at him intently, grinning at him from ear to ear.

"You're amazing, Haz," Niall says when the song as finished. He lays the guitar down on the chair next to him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Seriously. You have an amazing voice."

"Thank you," Harry murmurs. And then Niall's pushing himself to his feet and walking toward the back door to go inside and Harry isn't listening to whatever he's saying because all he's thinking about is Niall. Niall and his guitar. Niall playing the guitar. Niall calling him Haz, because Gemma and his mum are the only two people in the world who call him Haz because Gemma was still having a hard time with her r's when he was born.

"Haz!" Niall calls, hovering in the doorway with one foot still on the deck and one foot inside the house.

"Sorry, what?" Harry asks dazedly. 

"I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?"

Harry shakes his head and then watches Niall nod and disappear into the kitchen. And then all of a sudden his body is moving on its own and he's jumping to his feet and calling out to Niall as he races inside after the blond boy. Niall turns to look at him, a can of coke in his hands and for a moment he looks worried because Harry's breathing hard and he looks urgent. 

"What? What's wrong?"

"I just – I," Harry stutters nervously, because he's never done this before. And then he's walking across the small, cramped room and Niall puts the can on the counter behind him when Harry stands directly in front of him. Harry lifts his hands, then, and cups Niall's face in them as he presses his forehead against Niall's soft, blond/brown fringe. "Can I kiss you?"

Niall blinks a few times and Harry can feel Niall swallow as he nods his head ever-so-slightly and croaks out a soft, "yes."

And Harry can't hesitate anymore before he's pressing his lips against Niall's and Niall is pressing back and slipping his arms around Harry's waist to pull him closer. And Niall gasps when Harry deepens the kiss and runs his hands through Niall's hair and Harry can't help but let out a moan in response. It's soft and it's delicate, but it's also urgent and desperate and Harry's never felt anything so bloody perfect.

+

Harry is all tired heart eyes and bright, swollen lips trying to hide a goofy grin when he gets home early the next morning to get ready for work. So when Louis knowingly questions him about his whereabouts and whether he's kissed Niall yet, Harry just nods and smiles and blushes. And Louis acts like the proudest best friend in the world. 

X

They're cuddling in Harry's bed, Harry lying flat on his back with Niall curled into his side, tracing his fingers over one of Harry's Swallow tattoos. Harry's left arm is curled around Niall, running the backs of his knuckles against Niall's arm, while he texts Gemma with his right hand.

"How is she?" Niall asks softly, his lips moving lightly against Harry's skin.

"She's great, actually. Just wondering when I'm gonna go visit her and mum."

"I think you should," Niall replies. "I mean, I know my trip back to Ireland wasn't the greatest idea, but you have a great relationship with your mum and Gemma, considering. I think it could be good for you to go back for a couple days to see them."

"What about you?"

Niall shrugs. "You know me, I'll find something to do."

"But what about if you came with me?" Harry suggests, his voice soft and a little hesitant. 

Niall lifts his head, gazing at Harry curiously with a raised eyebrow. 

Harry looks down at him. "I just...it's just a thought. I just talk to them about you a lot and they really want to meet you – but if you don't want to yet, then I'll completely understand-"

Niall cuts him off with a chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, which is funny because Harry hadn't even noticed that the boy had shifted closer. "I'd love to."

Harry grins, lifting his head to chase Niall's lips as he moves so he's on top of Niall, his hips settled comfortable between Niall's thighs.

X

The drive back to his home town of Holmes Chapel takes three and a half hours because Niall asks to stop for food twice. Normally Harry hates long car rides, but this time Niall makes it bearable with the playlist he made special for this occasion. Hell, just Niall in general made the whole ride bearable. 

It takes another 45 minutes to actually get to his mum's and Robin's house because he ends up showing Niall around a bit; driving past his old high school, the little record shop he used to work at and a few other shops along the way.

His mother, Anne, is standing out on the front step, smiling widely and looking happy, before Harry even puts the car in park. Harry looks across the console at Niall, who looks back at him and smiles, cocking his head to the side as if to say "c'mon." They climb out of the car together and all of a sudden Anne is running towards her son, calling him "my baby, my baby" over and over. She throws herself into his arms, squeezing him tight around the neck and Harry stumbles back, catching himself on the car as he curls his arms around her back. He closes his eyes, buries his face into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. He's missed this, he realizes; his mother's warm, affectionate hugs. He's missed her. 

He opens his eyes and looks over her shoulder at Niall, who's watching them fondly. He starts to pull away from his mum, then, and smiles down at her. "Mum, I'd like you to meet Niall."

Anne turns around to face the blond boy too, smiling warmly at him. "So this is Niall," she says stepping towards him to shake his hand. "I've heard so many great things about you, Niall."

Niall cocks an eyebrow, glancing past her briefly to make eye contact with Harry, who rolls his eyes. "Likewise, Mrs. Twist," he replies, smiling back at her. 

"Oh, please, call me Anne. 'Mrs' makes me feel old."

"Where's Gemma, mum?" Harry wonders, throwing his arm around her shoulders – and she's at the perfect height for it too. 

"Oh! Gemma – she's inside. Gemma!" She calls out loudly, despite pulling both boys into the house. 

Gemma, with her long, straight brown hair, green eyes and a smile like Harry's comes bounding down the stairs before launching herself at Harry. Harry catches her and twirls her around once, holding her close. "Hiya Haz."

"Hi Gem," Harry murmurs into her hair as he sets her on her feet on the hardwood floor. 

"I'm gonna go get refreshments, guys, go on into the living room," Anne says, disappearing into the kitchen behind them. 

"Thanks mum," Harry says, reaching behind him for Niall so he can pull him forward for Gemma. "Gem, this is Niall. Niall, this is my big sister Gemma."

Gemma smiles. "It's nice to finally meet you, Niall."

Niall nods and smiles. "You as well, thanks."

"He's cuter in person," Gemma tells Harry casually as they follow her into the living room at the back of the house.

Harry glances sideways at Niall, who's blushing all across his cheeks. He thinks it's funny that Niall's embarrassed, when it should be Harry because now Niall knows that Harry talks about him – and maybe has sent Gemma a couple pictures of him.

Anne walks into the room carrying a silver tray with four cups of tea, a bowl of sugar cubes and a tin of milk on it. And, yeah, Harry had forgotten how posh his mother can be sometimes.

All four of them sit down, Anne and Gemma on the couch and Harry and Niall on the love seat – naturally. 

"Now," Anne starts after taking a sip of her tea, "what's new?"

+

Harry finds himself sitting on the sofa with Gemma, her legs thrown over his lap, while Niall stood in the kitchen talking to Robin about football – and their mutual team Derby – as his mother prepared his favourite, homemade dinner. He glances into the kitchen, watching as Niall talks adamantly, waving his arms around passionately as he laughs, tossing his head back, with Robin. 

"I can't even remember the last time I saw you looking so happy, Bug. You're happy, right?" Gemma asks him, pushing her foot in his face to get his attention.

Harry bats her foot away, glaring playfully at her before a goofy smile spreads across his lips. He sinks himself further into the cushion. "I don't think I've ever felt happier."

Gemma smiles. "Don't let him go, okay? And don't push him away."

Harry smiles back.

+

Once again Harry overhears a conversation he shouldn't, only this time it's between Niall and his mother. He'd been saying goodbye to Gemma at the front door and when he'd come inside he could hear them in the kitchen as Niall helps Anne with the dishes. Chances are his mum thought he'd be longer and he knows he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he can't help it.

"My Harry, he was...he was miserable before," his mum's saying. "He was such a happy child and the drugs took him and turned him into someone that I couldn't recognize – someone that he didn't even recognize. And then Nick died and it destroyed him And he's been lost ever since, just kind of...going through the motions of what he knows he's supposed to do. But you've pulled him out of his shell and you've helped him find himself again and for that I will always be thankful."

"He did most of that on his own, to be honest," Niall tells her. "He's...he's stronger than he realizes – than he gives himself credit for."

"True. But I do think, Niall, you help make him stronger. You're everything that's right and beautiful in his world. His world used to be a dark and lonely place, but now...now I don't think it is – and it's because of you."

Harry clears his throat as he walks into the room, coughing once and looking around casually. He's trying to make it seem like he's just walked in from outside. "Well, Gem's just left," he announces. 

"Did she say when she was coming 'round tomorrow?" Anne asks him, glancing over her shoulder.

"Between 10 and 11, she thinks."

"That's what I figured," she says, pulling the plug out of the sink. Niall hands her the dish towel so she can dry her hands. "Well, there's a still few hours until I'll be ready for bed. How about we get out the board games?"

"'Kay," Harry murmurs. "Is Scrabble included in that?" he asks, grinning cheekily at her as she swats him in the shoulder on her way past him. 

"You beat me one time!" She laughs, turning to face Niall. "He beat me one time at Scrabble and now he thinks he's the King."

Niall laughs, raising his eyebrow at Harry as Anne leaves the room. "Cocky much?" he teases.

Harry shrugs. "I just do it 'cause it gets her all worked up."

+

It rains most of the following day, so they spend it curled up on the sofa watching movies and eating popcorn with Anne, Gemma and Robin. Niall gets along exceptionally well with his family and, if it's possible, it makes Harry like Niall even more. 

X

Harry looks sideways at Niall in the meeting circle; Niall, who's listening intently to the new new-comer, Michael. Niall, who's always listening when people talk at these meetings because he's a good listener and he cares and he's supportive – and Harry cares too, really, he just cares about Niall more so he tends to drown everything else out. 

Harry doesn't even need to be coming to these meetings anymore because he's stopped seeing his therapist, but he finds himself continuing to attend them every week because Niall still does.

They're walking towards Harry's car after the meeting and Harry pauses after opening his driver side door to look at Niall, who's just about to climb into the passenger side. "Hey, Niall?"

Niall hums, tossing his bag into the back seat. "Yeah?"

"I want to take you on a date."

Niall blinks and then smiles. "We've never been on a date, have we? Not an official one, anyway."

"'s why I want to take you on one," Harry grins.

Niall smirks, leaning forward with his arms crossed over the good of the car. "Wanna go to a movie? Or dinner and a movie? Or-"

"Too cliche," Harry declines, shaking his head. "Besides, I've got a better idea – which you'll just have to wait and see," he adds at the last minute just as Niall's about to ask.

Niall pouts, then, but then Harry laughs and they both climb into the car.

+

Harry plans out everything for his date with Niall. He's never felt more utterly nervous or anxious in his whole life because even though they've been kissing a cuddling and exchanging blow jobs for weeks now, he just really, really wants this date to be perfect. Plus, it's his first real date. 

He picks Niall up work the Friday after and brings him back to his flat. 

[Louis is out with Eleanor tonight and will be spending the night in her flat; all Harry had had to say was that he was taking Niall on a date and Louis was already deciding he would be staying with Eleanor (instead of the other way around) so that Harry and Niall could have all the time in the world to have as much loud sex as they want. Harry had scowled at Louis for being so crude, but had to admit that it wasn't a bad idea.]

Once they're at the flat, he lets Niall roam around while he makes dinner: a replica of Niall's favourite chicken club sandwich from the diner he likes to frequent with a side of Cesar salad. Once he gets the chicken in the oven, Niall takes it upon himself to drag Harry to the couch for a snog session while they wait. And even after the timer goes off in the kitchen, it still takes nearly five minutes for Harry disentangle himself from Niall. After that it's just preparation and Harry refuses to let Niall help until it comes time to move the dishes to the dining room table.   
After eating dinner and washing dishes – and having a water fight, which resulted in both boys needing to change their shirts and Niall needing to borrow one of Harry's – Harry pulls Niall out the front door but doesn't tell him where they're going.

Niall thinks it's sweet when Harry takes him to their favourite cafe because it's where they first spent time together but, as Harry holds the door open, he tells Niall it's more than that. And it is. Because the cafe is packed with people and it's standing room only and Niall looks truly confused. That is, until he catches sight of the small stage that's been set up at the back of the room, the lights that have been strung up across the brick wall behind the stage and the microphone that's been places in the centre of the stage. 

Niall looks sideways at Harry, who grins cheekily and holds up a homemade flyer that reads "Open Mic Night's Opening Night." Recognition and understanding dances in Niall's blue eyes. "You're gonna sing for me in public?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugs – and the truth is he really hadn't thought about it, but it's not that terrible of an idea. "But I want you to sing."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Harry insists softly, "I mean, you talk a lot about how you used to perform in pubs and stuff, so when I found out they were starting an open mic thing here, I thought it would be perfect for you."

Niall smiles, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Harry's lips. And then he frowns when he pulls away. "I just – I don't have my guitar."

"Oh but you do," Harry tells him, laughing at Niall's confused expression. "It's in the back room, I had Zayn bring it over earlier so I could keep it a surprise."

The chatter in the small, probably overly-full cafe died into no existence fairly quickly as the owner Lady, Melissa, steps up to the mic. "Good evening, everyone! Welcome to our Open Mic Night's Opening Night and thank you for coming. Please feel free to order whatever you would like off the menu and enjoy the shows. First up, we have a Mr. Niall Horan."

Harry beams as Niall beams and Melissa holds up his guitar for him. Niall's about to take off for the stage but then turns around abruptly to press another chaste kiss to Harry's lips, despite the dozens of eyes watching them, before rushing towards the stage. Harry has to hide a blush and take a deep breath as Niall swings the strap of his guitar over his shoulder and adjusts the mic stand height. 

Niall practically shines under the spotlight that's cast on him and it has nothing to do with the fact that his skin is still insanely pale. It's because Niall is all charismatic and he already has the room giggling because he's telling them about how he had no idea that this was even a thing and how he's scrambling for a song in his head and people are shouting out song titles and artists at him and Niall's just soaking it all in like a sponge. Niall's like a star right now, looking and acting like a professional. And Harry thinks that maybe Niall's an actual, real star too.

Niall decides to sing A-Team, by Ed Sheeran and his voice is so perfect for the soft, acoustic melody that it has everyone in the room in a trance. Especially Harry.

+

Niall is all smiles and giggles and bright eyes and flushed cheeks all night long. And yeah, Harry gets up to sing a couple times too but only on the guise that Niall plays his guitar for him. 

And then at the end of the night, as they're walking back to Harry's car – Niall's walking hand-in-hand with him, still drunk off the energy and the music with his guitar in his free hand – when Niall tells Harry that the next date is all on Niall. 

X

Harry and Niall are cuddling on Harry's bed, all giggly and sort of exhausted and Niall's whispering all sorts of random things when Harry's phone starts to ring. Niall groans, moaning and whining for Harry not to answer it and Harry laughs, rolling himself over Niall's body to search for his jeans on the floor. He slips the phone from out of his back pocket, rolling his eyes fondly as Niall starts to snake his hands over Harry's body in an attempt to distract him. 

It's Eleanor. And Eleanor never calls him unless it's important or unless she can't get a hold of Louis; she prefers texting to actual phone calls. And that's, ultimately, why he answers it. Niall starts to play with his hair and Harry lets him because it always feels so good. 

Eleanor's in a right panic; she's crying and gasping and Harry bolts so quickly upright that it startles Niall. "What – Eleanor, El, calm down for a second. I can't understand a word you're saying."

Niall's sitting up too, now, looking just as worried as Harry feels.

Only two worlds register in Harry's mind as Eleanor continues to babble hysterically. Louis. Accident. And it's like his whole world just caved in as he mutters a quick response that they'll be right there – though he isn't sure where there is. And then he's rushing around the room in a panic and getting dressed and Niall’s now talking to Eleanor to get the details and Harry just needs to get there. He just needs to be with Louis. Now. 

+

Niall ends up driving Harry's car because Harry's a mess and his hands are shaking so badly that he can't even get his keys into the ignition. 

Louis was hit by a car on his way to the bus stop after work today. 

+

Harry and Niall walk into Louis' hospital room, where he remains in a coma after going into surgery for a broken leg and head trauma, to find Eleanor sitting in a chair next to his bed. She turns to look at them and her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks have tear stains all over them and she hiccups as she jumps out of the chair and throws herself at Harry. But Harry's numb all over and he barely feels her body collide with him, hardly feels her arms circle around his neck and it just takes too much energy to hug her back. Both his mind and his gaze is on Louis. Louis, with a cast up his leg and bruises on his face and a white bandage wrapped around his head and tubes and wires and machines to keep him breathing. And Harry, himself, can hardly breathe.

Harry drops Niall's hand and walks around to the other side of the bed from where Eleanor was just sitting, staring hopelessly down at Louis. Louis, who won't open his eyes – not even when Harry says his name. 

Niall stays at the end of the bed as Harry lowers himself into a chair, picks up Louis' hand in both of his and sniffs back tears. Eleanor sits across from him, holding Louis' other hand in hers and bringing it to her lips. 

"I should have been there," Harry whispers, not taking his eyes off Louis.

"Harry, don't-" Niall starts, but Harry shakes his head for him to stop.

"I offered to pick him up and he said no. I shouldn't have listened – I should've been there. If I had picked him up this wouldn't have happened."

"It's not your fault," Eleanor says softly, glancing across the bed at Harry.

Harry closes his eyes for a minute before taking a deep breath and looking back at her. "Have the doctors said anything else?"

"They just said that there was extensive damage to his head and that's why he's..." She trails off, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to finish that sentence. "They're keeping a close eye on him."

"How long is he gonna be...like this?" Harry can't say the word either. 

"They don't know," she shrugs. "Could be a few days, could be weeks or months, could be... I've called his parents and they're on their way here from Doncaster right now."

Harry's pushing himself to his feet, then, and the legs of the chair scrape against the floor. He feels like he can't breathe, like he can't think, like he can't feel. The room is too small and too big and too white and it smells too clean and Louis won't open his eyes and – “I have to – I have to go," he stutters, pushing a shaky hand through his hair as he turns to leave. 

Niall reaches out for him as Harry makes a quick beeline for the door, but Harry pulls away. The fabric of Harry's shirt slips through his finger as the brunette yanks open the door. "Harry-"

"Don't – just...don't," Harry mutters, backing away from Niall. "I need to be alone."

And then he leaves and he doesn't even know where he's going. 

+

Harry returns home a couple hours later, throws himself onto the couch and tosses a bag of white pills onto the coffee table. He lays sprawled across the couch, on leg hanging off with his foot on the floor and an arm thrown over his tear-soaked face. He isn't sure how long it's been or where Niall is or how Niall got home – did he even get home? – but, then again, he doesn't really care. 

He turns his head, eyeing the bag of pills sitting mere inches from his head. He can't practically taste them.

X

Niall finds him in much of the same position that Harry had found Niall in in Ireland. Sitting on the couch, both feet planted firmly on the floor, elbows on his knees, hands in his messy curls and gaze trained firmly on a clear baggie on the coffee table. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's in the baggie and Niall sucks on a breath as he closes the front door behind him. He walks, slowly and tentatively, further into the flat until he's standing right next to the couch – and although Harry doesn't acknowledge him, Niall knows he knows that he's got company.

Niall licks his dry lips, his gaze trained heavily on this distraught looking Harry in front of him. "Please, Harry," he murmurs. "Please don't do this-"

"Go away, Niall." Harry's voice is cold and rough and Niall thinks about getting him a glass of water but he doesn't want to take his eyes off Harry.

"Harry-Haz, please listen to me, okay? This isn't your fault."

"It is."

"No, it isn't," Niall insists softly, because soft and tentative is all he can think right now. Because Harry is sensitive and he doesn't even know if Harry's taken any pills or... "It was an accident, babe. It wasn't your fault-"

"Yeah well it might as well have been!" Harry snaps, pushing himself up to stand on shaky legs. His voice sounds weak and emotional, even to him; like he might cry or scream any second. "I was supposed to be there, Niall, but I listened to him when he told me not to – and then instead of going to pick him up I was fucking you," he spits. He sounds so cold and detached and bitter and if Niall didn't know any better he'd think that Harry were upset with him. "Instead of being there for him I was..."

Niall takes a step towards him and holds his arm out to him, which only succeeds in pushing Harry back. "Harry, I know you're hurting-"

"-you don't know how I'm feeling-"

"-but Louis wouldn't want you to do this," Niall says. Harry closes his eyes at Louis' name. "Your mum and Gemma wouldn't want you to do this. Harry, Nick wouldn't want you to do this-"

"Don't talk about him!" Harry shouts, snapping his head up to glare at the blond boy in front of him. Niall looks scared – only for a millisecond, but the fear is there in his eyes and then it's gone. But Harry doesn't care because this isn't about Niall, this is about Louis. And, yeah, maybe it's about Nick. "You don't know what he'd want – you didn't know him!"

"I know that he was your friend," Niall murmurs. "That he loved you. And that he's probably so, so proud of you for everything that you've done, for making it this far and he wouldn't want you to do this now."

Harry shakes his head, looking upwards; he isn't really sure what he's looking at or for, he just can't look at Niall. "Shut up."

"I don't want you do this, Haz. Please-"

"I don't care, Niall! I don't care!"

"Harry-"

"Just shut the fuck up, Niall! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

"I can do that, Haz," Niall says softly, taking another step towards Harry. But this time Harry stands his ground, standing firmly in front of the bag, glaring angrily at Niall. "I – please, Harry, just-just give me the pills."

"No."

"Harry-"

"I said no, Niall. Get the fuck out of here."

Niall shakes his head, "no, I'm not leaving you-"

"Fine, then I'll leave," Harry snaps and then he's grabbing the bag off the coffee table and shoving his way past Niall for the door. 

"No-Harry, just – Harry just listen to me, for a minute," Niall stutters desperately. He's finally able to grab onto Harry's arm without Harry trying to pull it away. They're in the foyer/kitchen now and Harry's just standing there waiting, glaring hard at the floor. Niall licks his lips again and takes a deep breath. "Please, just – Louis wouldn't want this, Harry. He wouldn't want this for you. He's...he's gonna wake up in a few days and if he has to find out that you – that you took these pills, it'll destroy him-"

"-stop," Harry murmurs, his voice weak and strained and thick with tears as he tries to pull away again. 

"Harry, if you do this, I know you'll regret it because it'll destroy you too," Niall tells him and he's close enough to Harry now that he bends down a bit and cranes his neck so that he's kind of forcing Harry to look at him. "You've come so far, babe, please don't let yourself ruin it-"

Harry shakes his head again; he doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to talk about this – especially with Niall. "You don't understand, Niall..."

"I do understand, Harry, that's the point. I do understand and I know where you're at right now and I know that you're stronger than this – I know you are. And I know that you're scared that Louis' gonna leave you the way that Nick did, but you have to believe that he'll get better, Haz. You have to-"

"Ju-just stop!" Harry shouts, shrugging himself out of Niall's grip to get away from him. "Stop telling me what to do and what you know – you don't know anything!"

"Harry, please, lets – lets go to the gym, yeah?" Niall suggests, because now he's desperate. He wants to distract Harry any way he can.

"I don't want to go to the gym."

"Remember – remember when you told me that if I ever feel the need to stare into a glass of beer that I needed to call you and you'd take me to the gym? Let's go to the gym and then we can go back to the hospital and check on Louis-"

"I don't want to go to the gym, Niall! I want to be left alone."

"Babe-" Niall reaches for him and that's when Harry really snaps, whirling around and shoving so hard against Niall's chest that the blond stumbles several feet backwards. 

"Just get the fuck out!" Harry screams. He's shaking all over, his eyes are wide and angry and cold. He's grabbing at his hair in frustration and desperation – and Niall's actually kind of afraid that Harry might rip his hair out. "Get out! I don't want you here, Niall – just leave me the fuck alone!"

Niall blinks, taken aback. He doesn't know what to do, how to help Harry. "Please, Haz-"

"GO! Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to tell you to get out of my fucking face?!" Part of Harry knows that he's being harsh on Niall, that Niall just wants to be there for him and with him – the way he'd been there for Niall in Ireland, but this is different – and that Niall is scared to leave him alone with the pills in his pocket. But a bigger part, a weaker part of him, just needs to be alone.

Niall feels (and sounds) defeated as he sinks back, away from Harry. "O-okay. I-Harry, I...please call me if you need anything, okay? Please..." he begs. 

+

Harry thinks about following Niall the moment the door closes behind him. Thinks about calling Niall back and pulling him into bed and curling himself around Niall and burying his face into Niall's chest and maybe trying to crawl into Niall's heart so he can just live there forever. But he doesn't. Instead he falls to his knees in the kitchen and sobs into his hands for over an hour before falling asleep in the floor.

[And he doesn't know that Niall waits outside in the hallway for just as long, until Harry's sobs subside.]

X

Louis wakes up four days later and Harry is so over-come with joy and relief at the sight of his best friend's blue eyes and tired smile that he forgets about Louis' injuries and jumps on top of the boy in the hospital bed. And Eleanor giggles and Louis hisses in pain, but then laughs it away – and it's like nothing had even happened, except for the cast on Louis' leg and the disappearing bruises on his face. 

X

It's been nearly four weeks since the accident and nearly one week since Louis had been discharged from the hospital and Harry can't help but baby him. He still feels incredibly guilty and Louis tells him to "just stop it, already" because he has a broken leg, he's not paralyzed, and "there's these things called crutches, Harold, which help me walk around", but Harry doesn't listen. 

Eleanor also babies him – and she's been staying over every night now – but Louis quite likes the idea of Nurse Eleanor, so he doesn't complain about that. In face he takes advantage of that.

Eleanor is at work today and it's Harry's day off so when Louis suggested they waste the day away playing FIFA, who was Harry to deny him? Louis wins every game, like always. Except during their final game, Harry starts winning and Louis pauses it. Harry starts to complain, teasing Louis about being a sore loser now that Harry's finally winning, but Louis doesn't come back with a smartass remark like he always does. Instead he says, "you should talk to him."

"Who?"

"Who do you think, Harry?"

Harry sighs, placing the game controller on the coffee table because he doesn't feel like playing anymore. "He probably doesn't even want to talk to me."

"If you really think that, then you're thicker than I thought," Louis scoffs. "Go see him, call him – at the very least just text him so he knows you're okay and doesn't think that I'm just telling him that."

Harry blinks, taken aback. Because what? What is he talking about? "Wha – he's texting you?"

Louis sighs. "He came to see me an hour before you came to pick me up last week and he's been texting me every day to make sure everything's still okay. And then when he's done checking up on me like Mother Hen, he asks about you like a worried boyfriend."

Harry groans, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. He hasn't spoken to Niall since the day of the accident – since Harry screamed at him to get out of his face – and it's not because he doesn't want to. "I don't – Louis, I don't even know what to say to him. I said...I said some things to him and – and I pushed him, Lou. I pushed him like I pushed Gem and I scared him, I know I did."

"Harry, I can assure you that that doesn't even matter to him. He knows you and he knows what it's like."

Harry sighs. "I don't know, Lou. I don't...maybe this should just be it. Maybe we should just use this as a clean break, ya know?"

"What? Harry-"

"Maybe this is just a sign that we're both just too fucked up – that maybe we shouldn't be together." And, yeah, he's been thinking about that. A lot. Because they're both addicts and what good can possibly come from two addicts being together? What's going to happen when something bad happens again and one of them starts to move backwards instead of forwards? What happens when one of them hits a bump in the road?

"What the hell, Harry! Where the hell is this even coming from? You're crazy about him – and he's crazy about you."

"Well maybe that's the problem, Lou!"

Louis scoffs. "Never in my life have I ever heard something so idiotic, Harold. It's not the two of you being completely mental for each other that's the problem, Harry. The problem's you."

Harry's eyes widen and he feels defensive. "Oi, hang on-"

"No, Harry, I won't hang on! I just spent the past two weeks in a hospital bed because I could've died, Harry. The day before that I was talking to my mum on the phone telling her that I was thinking about proposing to Eleanor and then BAM, the next day I get hit by a fucking car. Life can change in the blink of an eye, Harry, and if anybody knows that it's you – and you can't keep letting fear get in the way. I know you're scared, okay? I know you don't like being close to people and I know that being with Niall scares you just as much as it thrills you, but you can't let it scare you so much that you're just gonna give up on him. You're scared that Niall's gonna leave you, that he's gonna give up on you, that he's gonna die on you but as long as he has the choice he's never going to leave you. You just need to stop pushing him away."

X

Harry shows up at Niall's ice cream shop with a bouquet of flowers in his arms and a small, sheepish smile across his lips. Niall looks surprised at first, when they lock gazes from across the parlor, but then a smile spreads across his own lips. And, God, Harry's missed that smile. He's nervous and his stomach is queasy and he feels like he could either throw up or pass out and he isn't sure which outcome would be more embarrassing. 

He steps further into the shop, struggling to keep his breathing right because he really is starting to feel light-headed. "I, um, stopped by the house and Zayn said you were here, so..." He says, smiling sheepishly. And it takes everything he has not to leap across the counter and into Niall's arms because, God, he's missed this boy. Instead he holds the flowers out to the blond boy, who just continues to smile at him. "These are for you. I didn't know what kind of flower was your favourite so I got one with all of them."

Niall's cheeks turn pink as he reaches forward to take them from Harry. "Thank you."

"We – I need to talk to you, Ni," Harry blurts out suddenly – and then his eyes go wide in panic. "Um, I mean, if you want to. If you don't want to, then I'll just-"

"I'll be closing up in 20 minutes; we can talk then?"

Harry smiles, then, and he has to force himself to breath and not get lost in the blue of Niall's eyes. "Perfect."

+

Harry waits for Niall to close up, takes a seat in one of the comfy chairs in the shop and plays on his phone. When Niall starts to flip all the chairs over onto the tables, Harry gets up to help him and Niall thanks him silently with a smile. And then when Niall's done closing up, the blond asks Harry where he wants to go and Harry just says, "wherever you want to go." But Niall doesn't care, because he'll go wherever too and so they bicker back and forth for a few minutes until Niall remembers that there's left over pie at home.

The house is empty when they get there and Niall explains that Zayn's staying with Perrie this weekend. And Harry hangs back in the kitchen, watching Niall get the pie from out of the fridge. Niall cuts two slices and gets out two plates and forks and Harry doesn't have the heart to tell him that he's really not hungry because there are butterflies in his stomach. Harry takes a couple bites anyways, once Niall has put the piece in front of him, and things are silent for a minute before Niall asks him what he wants to talk about. Though they both know what it's about.

Harry takes a deep breath, pushing his plate away because he can't concentrate with it sitting right in front of him. He looks at Niall, who looks back expectantly and innocently and Harry has to swallow hard against the lump in his throat. "First, I just – I want to apologize for...for what happened before. For yelling and for the things I said, because I didn't mean any of it – and for pushing you. I hate that I pushed you-"

"It's okay, Harry," Niall murmurs. 

"No, it's not okay," Harry says, shaking his head enthusiastically. "You were trying to be there for me and I acted like-"

Niall reaches across the counter, then, and places his hand over Harry's – and Harry's words fail him for a minute as Niall intertwines their fingers. "Haz, it's okay."

Harry nods, staring down at their hands, and everything falls silent. Harry can hear his heart beating in his ears and he wonders if maybe Niall can hear it too because the boy's staring at him thoughtfully. 

"Look, Harry, if you don't-"

"No, just – I need to talk, but I just need a minute," Harry murmurs, pulling his hand away from Niall's as he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. His hand gets cold almost immediately and he can't concentrate on what he'd planned to say with Niall touching him and looking at him like that.

"Okay."

Harry takes another deep breath and looks directly into Niall's eyes because he just has to. He needs Niall to hear him, to believe him, to feel him. "Niall, when we first met I didn't want anything to do with you – or anyone at those meetings because I hated them," he admits, although it's no secret. And he isn't good with words, he never has been – that's why Niall does most of the talking and Harry does most of the listening, because not only does he like the sound of Niall's voice but because words have always been good to Niall. But all of the sudden the words start pouring out of his mouth and he can't stop. "But you were just so real and genuine and true and it made staying away from you so difficult and the more time I got to spend with you, the more time I wanted spend with you and I hadn't felt that in a very long time. You just – you found a way to get under my skin, Niall, and over the course of the last several months multiple people have told me that we're perfect for each other and that I look happy and I haven't been genuinely happy in years. And it's scares me. You scare me and being with you scares me and the fact that you just know me so well without me even having to tell you anything scares me. And normally when something scares me I just – I ignore it and I pretend it doesn't exist but I haven't been able to do that with you. 

"I've been kind of avoiding you for the past month because...because of what happened that night. Because I was ashamed and because I hated that you had to witness it and because...because I was so close to taking those drugs, Niall, and I didn't want to drag you into it – that's partly why I kept telling you to leave – and I just wanted to make sure I was completely fine again before I came back for you. I thought about just ending it, you know? So that both of us could have a clean break, but Louis got furious with me and I realized that I just...I can't. I can't because you're all I think about. 

"You're the main reason I didn't take the pills, Ni. Because I knew I wouldn't be able to look at you again knowing that I'd done it, that I'd ruined it. I didn't want to see the look on your face when you found that I had let you down.

"You've – you're a part of my life now, a part of me, and I don't...I don't remember what life was like before and I don't want to remember because I like to think that it doesn't matter anymore. Because all that matters is the future and...I see you in my future. I need you in my future.

"You're home to me, Niall. And you're safety and you're love and my mother was right when she said that you're everything that's bright and beautiful in my world. You're everything to me and I just – I-"

Niall cuts him off with a kiss. 

Harry is stunned at first, because he hadn't even noticed that Niall was that close to him – but then kisses back, grasping at the front of Niall's shirt and his cheeks are wet and he isn't sure if it's from his tears or from Niall's, but it doesn't matter because Niall's here. Harry presses himself flush again Niall, slipping his arms around Niall's waist and up his back and around his shoulders – moaning when Niall tugs gently on his hair – as though he can't get close enough, can't get enough of Niall. And when Niall pulls away, both of them panting and gasping for air, Harry's head is all foggy and his knees are weak and it feels like his entire body is on fire – and it's better than any high he's ever felt before. It's like Niall's a drug and it's better than anything he's ever taken.

"I love you," Niall whispers.

Harry breathes out a laugh before pouting his lips. "No fair, I was supposed to say it first."

"Too bad," Niall murmurs, nuzzling his nose against Harry's. "I love you."

"Niall!"

The blond giggles. "I love you."

"Ni-"

"I lo-"

This time it's Harry who kisses Niall mid-sentence, mumbling, "I love you so much," into the blond boys pink lips.

Both of their pies are completely forgotten. 

+

They're lying in a naked mess of tangled limbs, sweat and other fluids on the floor in Niall's bedroom, where they'd fallen from the bed in their haste. Harry has since pulled Niall's sheet over top of them and has – finally – managed to burrow himself into Niall's chest.

"You're like an addiction, Niall Horan," Harry whispers against Niall's skin. 

"So are you, Harry Styles. Which is sort of ironic, dontcha think?"

Harry hums out a giggle.

"I guess it's true what they then, aye? Once an addict, always an addict."

"I'd like to think this is a little bit more healthy, though."

"Maybe a little," Niall smirks.

Harry props himself up on his elbow, looking down at Niall as he strokes the boy's flushed cheek with his other hand. "Don't let me go, yeah? Promise me you won't let me go," he whispers.

"I promise," Niall murmurs back.

Harry smiles, plants a chaste kiss against Niall's swollen lips and then buries his face into the crook of Niall's neck so that he can feel Niall's pulse against his nose and hear Niall's heartbeat in his ear. 

"I'll never leave you alone," Niall whispers.

End.


End file.
